


A Porter to the Hell-Gate

by Marlon



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:16:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22741897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marlon/pseuds/Marlon
Summary: When Armitage is accepted to the summer internship at the library and archives at Hrad Houska deep in the Czech countryside, he thinks all of his dreams have come true. Houska is a strange and mysterious place, however, it was built with no fortifications, near no trade routes, and had no occupants at the time of completion. It was neither a residence nor a protective sanctuary. Armitage's dreams turn to nightmares when he learns that the castle harbours a dark and terrifying secret - the castle sits atop a horrifying portal to hell.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 67
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hrad Houska is a real place that you can visit! I went with my friends Christoph and Katie in 2018 and although it wasn't as grim and mysterious as I've depicted here, it was still an interesting visit (if only for the drive through the beautiful countryside). My thanks to Christoph and Katie for their review and suggestions!

_ Dear Mr. Hux, _

_ We are pleased to inform you that your application for the summer internship at the Blatce Library and National Archives at Hrad Houska has been accepted. _

Even now, four months later, the letter still sparks a little jolt of excitement in his belly. Armitage has the text memorized by now, which is good because he’s unfolded and folded the letter so often that it has begun to tear along the creases in the heavy paper.

He can hardly believe his good fortune. Doesn’t every literary scholar fantasize about spending a summer holed up in a library in a crumbling castle in rural Bohemia? It has been one of Armitage’s dreams ever since he learned about the internship as a wide-eyed undergraduate student and the day the letter came had been one of celebration - this internship will be one of many bright spots on his resume, he hopes.

Even his father’s lukewarm response to his achievement hadn’t dampened his enthusiasm but then again, he never expects anything else from his father - Brendol spends his life being perpetually disappointed by his children and their lack of interest in anything he considers a proper career. Brendol had barely refrained from rolling his eyes and muttering something about libraries and fanciful nonsense but he nonetheless wrote a cheque to help Armitage cover his summer expenses. Armitage then went directly to his mother’s house and let her envelop him in a warm embrace - at least she’s always proud of him. His siblings, Will and Róisín, had been delighted both at his luck and at their prospects for a summer holiday in Prague.

After a few days spent in Prague to meet with one of the archivists who oversees the Houska collection and do a little sightseeing, Armitage is finally on his way to his temporary home in the Czech countryside. He negotiates his rental car carefully along the narrow country road, dappled in sunlight, while Millie mews irritably from her carrier on the floor of the passenger side.

“Not long now, Millie,” Armitage says to her as he navigates the car around a sharp corner. To his right, he can see the tall spires of another castle rising out of the trees.

He’s been in the Czech Republic for all of a week and a half but he’s already enchanted. Prague is as beautiful as his friends had promised it would be - with its red-tiled roofed, dusty yellow buildings, cobbled streets and horse-drawn carriages, the city is right out of a storybook. Not that he’s comparing it to his beloved Dublin; the gritty, grey and green city of his birth will always have his heart but he can’t help but wander around Prague with wide eyes. Armitage hopes that Will and Róisín will come to visit over the summer.

The area that Armitage drives through now is entirely rural with nothing but fields and forest as far as he can see. His contact at the National Archives and Libraries, who ultimately had the management of the collections at Hrad Houska, had suggested he rent a car for the summer due to the absolute remoteness of the castle - any romantic notions Armitage had held about riding a bike into the nearest village for groceries had been dashed. He would need a car.

Armitage makes another turn and soon sees a rectangular, hand-painted wooden sign indicating that the parking area for the castle is coming up on the left. He’d been assured by the castle manager that he could park his car up on the castle grounds, rather than at the small gravel parking lot at the start of the unpaved lane, so he continues on.

Turning onto an extremely narrow lane, so narrow that the bordering trees and bushes scrape against the car’s windows as he passes, he proceeds with caution towards the castle while praying that he won’t meet any pedestrians on what is basically a glorified footpath. To his left, through a break in the trees, he sees a wide expanse of a field, painted pale green in the bright summer sun; to his right, there are more trees interspersed by the occasional weathered barn and farmhouse.

Hrad Houska looms suddenly into view as Armitage makes one final turn up the hill. The ancient castle has seen better days, its grounds are now wild and overgrown, the copper roof long oxidized to a faded green by the unrelenting sunlight. The water-stained stone facade of the castle is crumbling and shows signs of multiple patch jobs and repairs.

It’s exactly as romantic as Armitage hoped for.

Despite the rather grim and checkered past of the castle, it still boasts one of the best collections of Czech literature and history available but its remote location leaves Armitage uncertain as to how many people actually make the trek from the city to view the collections - he may not be as busy as he expected.

A tall youth with a mop of dark hair hails him from the small admissions booth as Armitage throws his car into park and gets out. With long, loping strides, the young man descends the short set of stairs from the castle and hurries across the gravel walkway to open the gates fully so that Armitage can maneuver his car through.

“Hello,” He says, coming over to the car, hand outstretched. “I’m Tomáš. Karolína sends her apologies, she had a family emergency so she’ll be unable to meet you until tomorrow.” He shakes Armitage’s hand warmly. “You can park over there.”

He points in the direction of a crumbling outbuilding that holds his own small blue car and a collection of bicycles then steps back to allow Armitage to drive forward. Once he’s parked in the ivy-covered parking shelter, Tomáš meets Armitage at the back of the car. He takes one look at the well-packed boot and backseat and gives Armitage a weary look.

“There’s no staircase in the courtyard to the upper levels so we have to go all the way around through the interior of the castle to get to the living quarters.” He looks back at the car, then up to the top-most windows of the castle. “This will take some time.”

Between the two of them, they manage to lug Armitage’s heavy suitcases, his backpack, boxes of groceries, and Millie’s travel crate up and up to the fourth floor of the castle. They pile everything into the narrow, yet high-ceiling room that is to be Armitage's home for the next three months. Armitage takes Millie’s crate into the tidy bathroom along with her accoutrements, then lets her out of the travel crate and gives her a soft scritch behind the ears before leaving her securely in the bathroom to acclimatize while he follows Tomáš back down to the courtyard.

Back at the admission booth, Tomáš gives Armitage a thick envelope full of keys and pages of instructions, including wifi passwords, security codes, and cleaning schedules.

“We close at five,” Tomáš explains. “Usually I put everything away out here then lock the castle doors as I go. Jan, the night watchman comes at six o’clock and is on duty until seven in the morning but today, because Karolína wasn’t able to meet you, I will stay until Jan gets here.”

Armitage nods, trying to take all the information in. He’d been in touch with Karolína throughout the winter preparing for his internship so he was already familiar with the daily routines of the castle and the expectations she had for him over the summer. Karolína acts as the manager at Hrad Houska, sort of like a modern-day castle chatelaine, but the library and archives are staffed by a rotation of student interns which offers them a chance to advance their studies and bulk up their resumes.

“Since we’re the only ones here today, I can’t leave the gates unattended,” Tomáš says by way of apology as he guides Armitage to sit beside him on the stone steps. “But, you know the castle’s history, right?”

“Yes,” Armitage nods. “It was built by Ottokar II in the 13th century but later passed into various aristocratic hands down to Princess Hohenlohe in 1897, then-”

Tomáš cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, that’s the basic history but you know about the portal to hell, right?”

“Ah,” Armitage drags out the word. “The what?”

“There’s a pathway to hell in the chapel, that’s why the castle was built here.” Tomáš claps Armitage on the back as he stands. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s just a legend. Feel free to look around and get used to the place, Jan will be here at six and Karolína will be here tomorrow, hopefully.”

He clatters down the steps to greet a small group of tourists, flushed and sweaty from their walk up the gravel path from the parking lot, leaving Armitage alone on the steps. He glances up at the castle as the wind whistles a lonesome tune through the eaves and high above him, a large dark bird circles in an updraft - yes, he could see how people might think the castle is haunted, it has a rather dilapidated, remote beauty.

Armitage rises, dusts himself off and leaves the tourists in the capable hands of Tomáš. He crosses the empty courtyard, sparing only a cursory glance at the dim, oddly chilly chapel as he returns to his rooms on the top floor to fetch Millie for an impromptu tour. The small chapel had a sense of foreboding about it but that was probably entirely due to Tomáš’s joke but all the same, Armitage decides to leave the exploration of that sacred space for another day.

Preferably one where there are many more people present.

\----

That night, Armitage curls up in bed listening to the mournful wail of the wind as it whips around the castle’s crumbling corners. The sound has a peculiar quality - thin and reedy, it sounds more like a cry of despair, rather than a normal gust of wind.

Despite the warmth of the night, Armitage tugs the sheets and blankets tighter around himself and pulls Millie closer into his chest, ignoring her sleepy chirrup of annoyance. He’d never really been in the middle of nowhere before so he’s never realized how noisy a forest could be at night. Not for the first time since the sun had set tonight did he feel grateful that Jan and his dog,  Štefan , were out there in the dark keeping watch.

As another irritable howl of wind rattles the castle, Armitage burrows down into his bedding and squeezes his eyes tightly shut.

\----

Despite the crumbling outer appearance of the castle, the library is a beautifully-maintained temple to learning and literature that any scholar would adore. The entire second floor is taken up with the library and archival storage and it’s a quiet place of repose even when the occasional tourist group comes crashing through.

Hrad Houska is roughly square-shaped around a central courtyard - the building would be perfectly square if not for the odd placement of the chapel which causes one side of the building to jut out at a gentle angle perilously close to the cliff face. Whether the myth about the castle being built to cover a passageway to hell is true or not, Armitage suspects that the real motive for the castle’s unusual location and design has been lost to time.

The second floor had been renovated several times over the castle’s history; where there was once a series of small rooms connected by arches, the walls had been removed and the doorways widened to create long, open airy galleries. As there are no interior windows that look down on to the courtyard, all the light within the library comes from the tall, square windows that are regularly spaced along the exterior walls.

The library itself makes up two wings of the second floor, with the other two reserved for the archives and rare book storage. The tall bookshelves which line the walls are of dark, highly polished wood that gleams in the afternoon light and each section is labelled with delicate brass and enamel placards denoting the section theme. Armitage barely suppressed a giddy sigh when he sees that each long row of bookshelves comes equipped with a rolling ladder to assist in reaching the topmost shelves. The libraries on campus back in Dublin aren’t nearly so romantic, only the Long Library has rolling ladders and Armitage suspects they are merely decorative - but these ladders are sturdy with gleaming brass fixtures, clearly meant to be used.

The books themselves are beautiful, all bound in leather of deep brown, green, and red, embossed with gold filigree and gilt, of varying heights; it’s an impressive collection having been built up over the centuries starting in the 1800s. There are more modern books too, sitting comfortably on the shelves with antique books, and it’s this mix of modern and vintage that helped make the Blatce collection so impressive. 

Along the other two wings of the second floor, the vaults of the archival material is stored behind a set of glass doors, for access by library staff only. There’s also a collection of clunky, ancient photocopying machines and scanners if visitors didn’t happen to bring their own equipment, cabinets that hold various ephemera such as newspapers, pamphlets, and notices, and carts that Armitage uses to gather materials for incoming scholars. The archival collection mainly deals with the Liberec region which is where Houska is located - Armitage isn’t sure what sort of demand there is for the documents, mostly regarding regional development, agriculture, and forestry.

Indeed, as Armitage consults the booking spreadsheet for the upcoming two weeks, he sees that only three people have signed out workspace and requested files and books. He’s already prepared their orders; the neat piles of books and boxes of files sit tucked away on rolling carts awaiting their scholars.

Armitage has set himself up at the librarian’s desk, a large honey-coloured desk with enough surface area to hold the librarian’s computer, a lamp, and his own sleek silver laptop and all his notes. Down the centre of the room are other long tables, communal workspaces for researchers and readers but which stand empty today. Millie sprawls on the desktop beside Armitage, her eyes fixed on the window behind the desk.

Hunched over, Armitage is engrossed in one of his translation tasks required for his thesis, translating the medieval Irish text to English when Millie sits bolt upright, ears swivelling on her head. Armitage looks up at her with concern.

“What is it?”

Then he hears it, a very faint noise filtering up from the ground floor.

_ tse-tse-tse _

It’s so faint, like the muffled chirrup of crickets, he has to strain his ears to hear it. The sound comes again followed by a beat of silence, then an indistinct wail ricochets up the stairwell. That sends a chill up Armitage's back as Millie’s tail lashes back and forth across the tabletop. He gathers her into his arms as he pushes back from the table. As he moves lightly across the library towards the stairwell, the floorboards creak and groan underfoot; the wooden floorboards are old and blackened with age, many of the joints are loose and it would be impossible for someone or something to creep up on Armitage unaware.

Down on the first floor, the rooms of the castle have been refurbished into a sort-of Renaissance-style hunting lodge and it’s all dark wood panelling and cream-coloured walls. Descending the staircase, Armitage pokes his head into some of the renovated sitting rooms with walls covered in trophy antlers and other taxidermy animals but sees no one and nothing that could have caused the strange noises. He wanders through the ground floor and into a room with at least fifty taxidermy heads of bighorn sheep on the walls. Armitage meets the wide glassy eyes uneasily.

“Who could find this room relaxing?” He says to Millie, shifting her onto his shoulder.

She mews in response as they stand there surveying the hunting trophies. As Armitage glances from one to the next, cataloguing the years the animals were killed and the measurements of the sturdy, curving horns, he becomes aware of a low drone filling the room. The low-frequency hum shivers its way up his body and pings around his skull causing the threads of a headache to wrap around his head. He shakes himself to dislodge the sound but it stays put, a low, steady reverberation like the sound of a far-distant swarm of bees.

He grits his teeth against the drone as he steps quickly towards the staircase with the intention of returning to the safety of the library. As he draws closer to the stairs, the hum increases in pitch. The sound takes on a slightly throbbing quality and seems to be pulling him in the direction of the chapel, curious he follows.

The vibration cuts off abruptly as he stands in the doorway of the chapel. Millie squirms in his arms so he sets her down; with ears pricked sharply forward, she creeps into the room, all her senses obviously on high alert. Armitage follows her into the chapel, gazing up at the high, domed ceiling, grimy with age. The room is dim and chilly, even with the hot summer sun glaring down on the castle, the sunlight filters weakly through the tall, gothic windows glazed with aged and warped glass, and there’s a hushed quality to the sound now that the odd droning has stopped.

There’s not much to the deconsecrated chapel, there is none of the usual accoutrement of a working chapel, just a table with some candles at one end of the room with additional candelabras set into the recesses in the walls. The walls themselves are covered with faded line drawings from the 15th century depicting the archangel Gabriel as well as a strange centaur-woman with a bow and arrow. The wall paintings are the draw for the tourists, he supposes, that and the presumed hellmouth. His eyes drop automatically to the floor. 

There is a large trapdoor with a large ringed handle set into the floor close to where the altar would be if this was a real working chapel. The door looks solid even though the hinges and bolt are rusted with age.

_ tse-tse-tse _

The strange chirping sound comes again but this time, it’s louder and definitely coming from within the chapel itself. A whimper gathers low in Armitage’s throat, threatening to push its way out from between his gritted teeth.

_ tse-tse-tse _

Millie crouches low and takes a few quick steps forward towards the trapdoor as if she’s stalking something. Without waiting to see what she does, Armitage scoops her up and quickly retreats from the room.

\----

A little over a week later, Armitage is returning from an early morning run when he happens to see Jan and Štefan coming up the hill to the left of the castle having finished one of their rounds. He hails them as he locks the gates behind him.

“Morning,” Armitage says as he stoops to pet Štefan’s floppy ears and the thick ruff of fur around his neck. The dog licks his hands, tail wagging furiously. “I was wondering-” Armitage pauses, feeling ridiculous for having to ask. “-I was wondering if you’ve heard anything weird at night this week?”

“Weird, like what?” The older man peers down at Armitage, his blue eyes bright in his weathered face.

Armitage quite likes Jan - he’s steady and unflappable which makes Armitage feel unquestionably safer at night knowing that the man and his dog are a light against the darkness.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Armitage rises to his feet. “Just, weird gusts of wind, or howls?” He glances up at the inscrutable castle facade, frowning.

“Well, we are on a cliff so the wind does whip around the corners of the castle fiercely.” Jan nods his head towards the ivy-covered outbuilding that functions as his office. “Do you want coffee?”

Armitage nods in acceptance even though he should change out of his damp running clothes soon but follows Jan and Štefan across the yard nonetheless, shivering as the wind ruffles the sweaty hair at sticking to the nape of his neck.

“What about the howls? Are there wolves in the area?”

“There are some wolves in Czechia, but none around here,” Jan says as he seats Armitage at the table in the kitchenette and goes about preparing the coffee. “There’s wild boar, deer, things like that.”

“Hmm,” Armitage responds, unconvinced.

Jan laughs. “You haven’t spent much time in the countryside, have you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“The forest can be loud at night, and if you’re not used to it, it could play tricks on you.” Jan brings the coffee over to the table. “But, if you keep hearing things let Karolína and myself know, it could be something to look into.”

Armitage nods, thinking back to the strange noises coming from the chapel - he was reluctant to bring that up with anyone. He’d mentioned them to Tomáš one day who had simply chalked it up to the wind rattling the loose panes of glass in the windows.

He sips the strong coffee, absently stroking the soft, droopy ears of Štefan as the dog sits close to Armitage’s knee. The odd noises that were starting to become commonplace around the castle were surely just coincidences, likely easily explained natural phenomena. Neither Jan nor Tomáš seemed overly concerned whenever he mentioned hearing something, so perhaps he’s just taking longer to adjust to country life than usual.

For now, he resolves to simply do his work in the library and be vigilant. For now, that is all he can do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Living in a castle in the Czech countryside for the summer should be an incredible experience but when Armitage arrives at Hrad Houska, he learns that the castle is anything but idyllic. Armitage resolves to focus on his work in the library and ignore the creepy chapel with its supposed hell-gate but sinister forces from within call to him day and night - something is alive in that pit beneath the chapel, and it knows Armitage's name.

It’s no good. Armitage slams the lid down on his laptop then slumps back again his chair. He sighs - today just isn’t his day. His translation task has hit a rough patch and he’s barely making any headway with this passage.

The library is quiet - no one had made a booking for today and there had been precious few tourists passing through to glancing at him as if he’s one of the castle’s curiosities. The sunlight pours in through the high-set windows, illuminating the dust motes that dance and flutter in the breeze. A window is open somewhere, Armitage can smell hints of greenery and fresh-cut grass beneath the familiar musty smell of the books and the waxy polish of the floorboards. From her spot beside him on the large table, Millie heaves a huge sigh.

A distant scream reverberates through the castle.

Armitage sweeps his laptop and his notes into one of the deep drawers in the desk then pushed back his chair.

“Come on, Millie, let’s get to the bottom of this demon nonsense,” Armitage says as he strides confidently across the library; the soft thud of Millie’s paws on the floor followed by the jingle of the little silver bell in her collar follows him across the room.

Downstairs, Armitage and Millie cross the courtyard and find Tomáš sitting on the steps, his dark curly head bent to study his phone, his hand at an angle by his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun. Armitage drops down onto the stairs beside him. Tomáš glances up, squinting in the bright sun.

“Taking a break?”

“Something like that,” Armitage says. “Is it possible to walk through the grounds all the way around the castle? Or is the forest too overgrown for that?”

“You can,” Tomáš replies with a nod. “The brush has been cleared back from the cliff, but the path is a bit steep.”

“I think I’ll go for a walk then, stretch my legs and all that.”

Tomáš levels a shrewd look at him, an eyebrow raised. “You heard that scream too, then?”

“Um… maybe?”

“Alright,” Tomáš lunges to his feet. “I’ll come with you, Karolína will kick my ass if I lose you in the forest.” He reaches into the admission booth for a large ring of keys then goes over to the tall iron gates to lock them.

Armitage leans forward and taps his shoulder. Stepping up on Armitage’s proffered elbow, Millie scrambles up to perch on his shoulder, her long tail wrapping around his neck. He rises slowly to his feet so as not to jostle Millie too much, then turns to wait for Tomáš.

Together the three of them round the corner of the castle and into the shade of the surrounding oak trees. The descent from the clifftop where the castle is located down to the valley floor is steeper than Armitage is prepared for - he wishes he had changed out of his sandals.

Through the tall maple and oak trees, Armitage catches glimpses of the castle. Some of the windows on this side of the building seem to be fake, confirming his suspicions about some of the odd interior architecture in the castle. He doesn’t know if the windows had been intentionally built to be fake, or if they had been bricked over at a later date. The former theory sits uncomfortably with him - why would the original builders need to include false windows in the design?

“Is it true about what went on here during the war?”

Tomáš shrugs. “It’s impossible to say, it’s not like a lot of documentation was left behind.”

“Yeah.” 

Armitage shivers despite the warmth of the day. The castle is such a strange place with a bizarre history. How much has been embroidered over time, Armitage can’t say but it’s clear that a colourful past mixed with a remote location is fertile ground for mythology to run wild. He glances moodily up at the high stone walls, perched above them on the cliff.

Millie chitters as she spots a bird, breaking Armitage out of his reverie. He reaches up to scritch the soft fur of her chest, glad that he decided to bring her rather than leave her in Dublin with Will or Róisín.

He points up to the roof. “Could any loose panels cause the weird howling sounds? Or maybe those dormer windows?”

Tomáš looks doubtful. “I don’t think so - the roof gets inspected at least once a year.” He pauses as he shades his eyes to peer up to the roof. “I guess someone could have left one of the attic windows open but I don’t see how no one goes up there and it’s not open to tourists.”

They leave the shelter of the trees and come to the wide grassy area right at the base of the cliff. The castle looms large and foreboding above them. The great height of the cliff combined with the swift scudding of the clouds makes the castle appear to tilt wildly above them.

Tomáš moves ahead a few paces to examine one of the craggy, moss-encrusted outcroppings of the cliff while Armitage continues gazing up at the castle. Millie leaps down from his shoulder to nose around the tall grass and tiny white and purple wildflowers that dot the clearing. She makes her peculiar quiet chittering hunting call as she crouches in the grass, eyes fixed on a point near the cliff face.

“Armitage!” Tomáš beckons him over with a wave. “Look at this.” He points to a long, dark rift in the limestone cliffs.

Armitage high-steps through the tall grass, the jingle of Millie’s bell following dutifully along behind him. Together, he and Tomáš lean in to examine the long tear in the cliff wall; the crevasse is long and very narrow, and from deep within the rockface, the sound of water trickling over stone reaches them. A cold and clammy air belches from the rift. Armitage shivers as the dank air whispers over his cheek, ruffling the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Look at these,” Armitage traces his finger along some deep gouges that start about two inches out and drag back towards the interior of the rift. “Weird.”

Tomáš hums to himself as he examines the gouges, taking care not to let his hands touch the rock face. “What caused these?” He looks at Armitage. “Water?”

“Maybe,” Armitage glances along the rock face. “Maybe a tree?” He points down the wall where a tree grows seemingly right out of the cliff.

“Hmm,” Tomáš says again, looking unconvinced. “It almost looks like claw marks. Like, something was trying to get out.”

They glance at each other uneasily then in unison, turn and gaze up the rocky promontory towards the castle. They are standing directly beneath the chapel, Armitage recognizes the tall gothic-style windows.

All around them the wind gently rustles through the branches of the tall trees, they hear nothing but the far distant cry of a bird. At their feet, Millie crouches, her eyes fixed on the rift in the wall. She makes her hunting call again, green eyes wide.

“A coincidence, I’m sure,” Armitage says, barely believing his own words. Tomáš simply raises his eyebrows.

In unspoken agreement, they continue around the castle, quickly putting distance between themselves and the strange gash in the rock wall. Armitage calls for Millie and she comes to him, bounding through the tall grass, the silver bell on her collar jingling. Together, the three of them hike up the hill towards the castle entrance. They skirt the outbuildings and come out of the brush onto the gravel road. 

Tomáš unlocks the front gate. He stops Armitage on the stairs with a hand on his elbow.

“Look, I know I joke about the portal to hell but it’s not a real thing, it’s just a legend.” He looks at Armitage seriously. “I’m absolutely sure it’s not a real thing. People love the idea of the portal - it’s a good story to tell, but it’s not real.”

“I know,” Armitage replies. “Jan said I just wasn’t used to being in the middle of nowhere, and I think he might be right. I’ve lived in Dublin all my life, I’ve never even been camping.”

Tomáš laughs at his admission. “You’re safe here but if you continue to hear things or feel uneasy, let me or Karolína know.” He glances over his shoulder as laughing voices echo up the road heralding the approach of visitors. “The owners can hire more security or something.”

Armitage nods, feeling reassured.

“Plus, we have a couple of weddings scheduled for later in the summer, and there’s the Hrad Houska theatre festival - you won’t be lonely here for much longer.” Tomáš smiles as he watches the tension lift from Armitage’s shoulders. 

“I’ll be fine,” Armitage promises. “Hopefully more people will book time in the library as the summer goes on.”

“God,” Tomáš laughs. “You think it’s dead now, you should be here in the winter.”

They share a laugh then Tomáš turns to greet the family of five who have come through the gate and are eagerly taking photos of the castle exterior. 

With a sigh, Armitage mounts the stairs and with Millie following along, crosses the courtyard to return to the library. He staunchly ignores the tapping that comes from the direction of the chapel as he takes the stairs to the library two at a time.

\----

Armitage is sprawled across his bed, lying on his stomach he flips idly through some of his translations, making edits. He scribbles out a few words and makes a notation, the verb tense is all wrong. He sighs. While completing his own translations of his medieval Irish sources is hard, thankless work, he has to admit that Dr. Sloane is right - if he wants to be able to rely on the quality of the translation, he has to do it himself.

It’s already the end of May, by the middle of June he’ll have to check in with his advisors and report on how his dissertation is progressing. Luckily, he seems to have it well in hand for now. Armitage throws his pen down in favour of his phone and scrolls through his Twitter feed for a moment. It’s only seven in the evening but the sky is still quite bright - summer is well and truly on its way. His chamber has two tall windows and fortunately, the room faces the west so he gets to enjoy the light for a little longer. One window is propped open an inch or two so the fresh air flowing in through the opening is light and fragrant.

His phone chimes with a text from Will asking when his next long weekend will be. They text back and forth, making tentative plans to meet in Prague in July, until Millie, tired of being ignored, plants herself in the circle of Armitage’s forearms purring loudly into his face. Armitage smiles, planting a tiny kiss to the tip of her nose. He pushes his phone to the side so that he can better scritch the soft ruff of fur at her neck.

“What should we do, sweet girl,” He asks as he tickles her under her chin. “Watch a movie, or should we finish _Good Omens_ \- we’ve got two episodes left.”

She simply purrs in response, unhelpful with decision making, as always.

“You’re right, let’s finish up _Omens_.” He pushes himself back up onto his knees to reach for the laptop charging on the nightstand beside the bed. “I mean, I assume they’re going to save the world but let’s see how-”

He pauses with a hand outstretched, hearing a faint noise from the ground floor. Millie’s ears are alert but she herself is still rather relaxed, which helps calm Armitage's suddenly racing pulse.

The chapel had been quiet for a few days now but Armitage senses that’s all about to come to an end.

Keeping still, he listens hard for another few seconds but when nothing but the sound of birdsong reaches his ears, he shrugs and takes up his laptop. Flopping back onto his belly, he begins queueing up the episode.

_Armitage..._

He freezes again as something whispers his name, beckoning him. The voice is faint, hissing his name like a lover might, low and enticing.

Millie’s ears prick up again, her tail sweeping slowly across the bed but she still doesn’t seem particularly alarmed. Armitage carefully pushes himself to stand and wobbles across the bed to glance out the window. He looks down to the grassy area along the side of the castle where the worn path meanders through the linden and beech trees he and Tomáš had walked a week ago, but no one is down there.

_Armitage..._

The whisper hisses to him again, as smooth as silk. On shaky legs, he shuffles off the bed and creeps towards the door of his room. Peaking out into the courtyard, he sees that it’s empty, as expected. There are no interior windows facing the courtyard and while there are two security lights at opposite corners of the courtyard, they do a poor job illuminating the murky space.

Something or someone calls to him from the direction of the chapel. Armitage quickly and quietly closes the door to his room. He presses his forehead against the door and sighs, his shoulders slumping.

“Millie?” He says, turning to the bed. “Should we do a very stupid thing?”

She chirrups in response, leaping off the bed and coming to brush up against his legs. He smiles down at her then reaches for the torch stored on top of the bureau beside the door. He looks at her again.

“Alright, let’s go.”

With Millie at his side, Armitage pads down the loggia that borders the courtyard on all four sides to reach the vestibule that leads to the interior of the castle. Winding his way through the labyrinthine rooms, Armitage regrets not at least pulling on a pair of shorts - he’s dressed for bed in only his tiny boxer-briefs and a black tank top, and his feet are bare. He feels incredibly vulnerable right now but knows that he’ll lose his nerve if he goes back to his room to change.

As he approaches the chapel, drawn forward irresistibly by whatever unseen force is calling to him, he no longer hears his whispered name on the wind but the eerie noises haven't stopped altogether.

_tse-tse-tse_

The strange cricket-like noise is back but now, this close to the chapel, it rather sounds like something is worrying at the metal hinges and locks of the trap door. He stops at the doorway to the chapel and peers in. The room is fairly dark, the setting sun is only vaguely hinted at through the tall arched windows. Behind him, the courtyard is painted blue in the growing twilight.

Millie prowls forward, ears alert, tail twitching madly behind her. She makes a soft _kik-kik-kik_ sound as she creeps into the chapel towards the large trap door at the end of the room. Armitage takes a deep breath and steps into the high-ceilinged room, following Millie’s swishing tail. He turns on his torch and sweeps it around the space but a heavy silence has descended on the room.

He inches towards the trap door on silent feet, the stone of the chapel is chilly on his bare skin. Millie is now sniffing interestedly at the trap door, buffeting the wood experimentally with one white-socked paw. Armitage slinks up beside Millie, spanning his torch around the space, the light catching on the metal candelabras and brass cups on the table at the end of the room.

“Hmm, must have been my imagination.” He says to Millie, not really believing himself. He crouches down beside her wrapping his arms around his knees and watches her paw at the wooden door set into the floor. “This looks pretty solid.”

He reaches down to knock on the door and to his horror, something from within knocks back.

\----

_This is stupid. This is stupid. Stupid._ Armitage chants to himself as he once again slinks towards the haunted chapel with Millie in tow.

Last night he had snatched Millie up from the floor and raced from the chapel, his jaw clenched against the scream threatening to break from his chest, the sound of delighted laughter dogging his steps. He’d fled to his room, locked the door behind him, dropped Millie onto the bed then pulled the heavy bureau across the locked door. Then he huddled in bed with Millie secure in his arms, earbuds in and a non-stop stream of podcasts filling his ears until he’d finally dropped off to an exhausted sleep sometime in the small hours of the morning.

Now though, it’s mid-morning and the castle and chapel are awash with buttery warm yellow sunlight. Armitage feels emboldened by the sunshine, surely if the trap door in the chapel did lead to hell, the supposed monsters inside would be repelled by the sun. Right?

It’s Monday, too. Not a sacred day by any means but the castle is closed to tourists today so Armitage is alone until Jan comes for his evening shift. If ever there was a time to investigate the strange noises coming from the chapel, today was it.

Millie, already sensing their destination, trots ahead of him and waits at the chapel door, sitting primly with her tail wrapped around her front paws. The low droning sound has returned, tugging Armitage relentlessly forward as he approaches the trap door in the floor. He shakes his head to dislodge the sound.

“Millie, stay back, alright.” Armitage gently moves her away from the door with the side of this foot. Her ears are pricked forward in eagerness and she meows softly as she obligingly moves back towards the wall.

Armitage takes a deep breath and with shaking hands, pulls at the rusted bolt, tugging it out of the latch. The solid oak door is heavy and the hinges complain loudly as Armitage braces his feet on either side of the door to haul it open. He’s barely lifted the door an inch when a rumbling sound erupts from within, thunderous, like an approaching train; he grits his teeth against the pounding sound. With a roar, the doors to the supposed hellmouth are thrown open, flinging Armitage back against the wall like a ragdoll. 

He sits up woozily, a spike of pain lancing down his back. He trains his unfocused eyes on the open doors and a scream freezes in his throat as a cold, clammy blast of air pours from the pit, flooding the chapel and dropping the temperature significantly. Armitage presses back against the cold stone of the wall, his panting breath visible in the cold of the room. He claps his hands over his mouth in horror as a pair of large clawed hands rise up out of the blackness to grip the door frame to haul the rest of the creature into view.

Armitage only has time to focus on the long, limp black curls and a pair of wickedly sharp horns before dark spots start swirling at the corners of his vision, his body threatening to shut down in the face of this terrifying onslaught. He pulls his knees up to his chest as he presses himself harder against the wall as the creature’s powerful, broad shoulders emerge from the void, a pair of massive leathery wings unfurling as soon as it’s cleared the confines of the door. The wings slam open with a thunderclap and stretch out so high and wide that they nearly brush the chapel ceiling. The creature crawls all the way out of the hellmouth, its long feathery tail lashing around behind it. Dark eyes fix on Armitage briefly, then the demon shambles towards the chapel door and sunny courtyard beyond.

Armitage will never know what possessed him at that moment but he skitters forward on his hands and knees to grab at the creature’s tail, attempting to haul it backwards. The demon flicks him away effortlessly and he slides across the cold flagstones towards the gaping maw of the pit. He scrabbles at the floor, his nails tearing and bleeding as he tries to stop himself from tumbling over the edge. A sob escapes his throat as his feet swing out over empty space but he manages to stop his momentum in time. Feeling bruised all over, he lurches to his feet and scoops up Millie who is plastered against the wall, tail puffed up and eyes lamp-like and huge.

Expecting to find the monster gone, Armitage and Millie rush to the courtyard but astonishingly, the creature is still there. It’s perched at the edge of the cistern in the centre of the courtyard, grooming itself with the stagnant water that fills the basin and chattering quietly. The great wings are outstretched and take up so much space that they nearly span the length of the courtyard. Armitage hugs the wall of the courtyard as he rounds on the creature, trying to put it between himself and the chapel door.

The creature looks up with a low growl and they gaze at each other, utterly entranced, for an eternity. Millie squirms in Armitage’s tight grip; she manages to wriggle away, her back claws digging into his shoulder as she leaps out of his arms. Landing with a soft thump, she trots confidently towards the massive creature as Armitage takes two steps to try and catch her. The demon leans down so that he and Millie can sniff at each other warily but to Armitage's utter astonishment, Millie’s rusty purr rumbles to life. The creature chatters in response, its head cocked to the side as it regards her, the long tail sweeping back and forth across the paving stones of the courtyard. Armitage blinks rapidly as a blackness descends on him and like a marionette whose strings have been cut, he crumples gracelessly into a heap on the ground and knows no more.

\----

Armitage awakens a few moments later to Millie sitting on his chest, patting his cheek gently with her paw. She trills when his eyes flutter open and he squints to focus on her face. Struggling to sit, he gathers Millie into his lap as he glances around for the demon. The monster is on the other side of the courtyard, busily tearing up the flower boxes that sit along the wall. The wings are still outstretched to soak up the warmth of the sun and as the light glints prettily off the dark leathery skin, Armitage can see the strong, ropey back muscles of the creature as it moves - it’s a powerful looking being.

Tucking Millie securely under his arm, Armitage rises unsteadily to his feet. He slinks towards the gardening supplies that are stacked along the wall to his left; setting Millie down on a bench out of harm’s way, he uncoils the green garden hose and turns on the faucet. Rushing around to the creature's right-hand side, Armitage pummels the demon with an icy blast of water from the hose.

The thing snorts in surprise, shaking the water out of its long hair. Keeping up the barrage, Armitage manages to force the creature back, step by step, towards the chapel and when they get to the doorway, he drops the hose and rushes at the beast. With a hard shove of his shoulder, he manages to push the demon back so that it slips on the wet flagstones. It falls back into the pit with an angry roar; Armitage darts forward to slam the doors close. He throws the bolts into place then spins on his heel and flees to the courtyard. 

Grabbing Millie, he runs to the castle doors. Kicking them open, he hurtles down the stairs and over to his car where he unlocks the door and sets Millie down on the passenger seat. He then hurries over the main gates to unlock them. He curses at himself as his hands shake uncontrollably and it takes two attempts before he can get the gates open.

Back in the car, he slammed it into reverse and haphazardly peels out of the parking area and tears through the gate. Leaving his door open, he leaps out to lock the gates again then returns to the car. Millie looks at him quizzically as he throws the car into drive and they fishtail down the gravel road. Only once they reach the paved road does Armitage let the sobs escape his body. Big, heaving shuddery sobs wracked his body and his hands shake so hard he can barely keep the car on the road. Millie creeps into his lap, trying to calm him down by purring loudly. He pulls the car over to the side and slumps over the steering wheel as hot tears slip down his cheeks; Millie stretches up, placing her small paws on his chest so she can rub her cheek against his and lap at the tears.

Exhaling loudly, Armitage pulls Millie close as he angles the car back onto the road and heads towards the nearest big town, putting as much distance between himself and the hellmouth with its resident demon as he can.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the demon safely back in the pit with the door securely locked, Armitage breathes a sigh of relief. Even locked away, the demon continues to snag his attention and as it pleads with him to be released from the confines of the pit, Armitage's conscience begins to prick at him. Will his compassion be his undoing?

Armitage returned reluctantly to Houska once he realized he couldn’t spend the rest of the summer living in his car in the McDonald’s parking lot in Mladá Boleslav. He timed his return in such a way that he wouldn’t spend too much time alone at the castle before the night watchman showed up for this shift and when Jan arrived, Armitage and Millie were waiting to greet him on the castle steps in the balmy late afternoon sunshine.

Jan had taken one look at Armitage’s face and brought him a mug of tea that had to have been liberally doctored with some kind of fortifying alcohol because Armitage’s head spun when he finally got up to return to his room. The tea and alcohol did its work however, he skittered past the chapel door with only a quick glance and once in his room, fell into a deep, unmoving slumber.

Fortunately, the demon in the chapel is mercifully quiet for the rest of the week; it does seem to know when Armitage is close, however, because it never fails to attempt to attract his attention whenever he passes the chapel door. Armitage isn’t falling for the demon’s tricks again so the monster can cry and complain all it wishes, the door to the pit will stay firmly locked.

As June arrives, so does a brief influx of researchers and students to the library and archives and Armitage finds that he’s almost busy for once. More tourists visit the castle as the high season for travel begins to kick into high gear.

The increased amount of traffic in and around the castle is probably the real reason the demon has been so meek and well-behaved - Armitage doubts it feels chastened or remorseful for its actions.

On Friday afternoon, Armitage is preparing to take his lunch break in the shade of the courtyard. Food and most drinks are forbidden in the library and because of the warmth of the day, he doesn’t want to sit in the stuffy staff kitchen and dining room on the top floor of the castle. Millie trots along beside him, ears alert.

As they pass by the chapel door, the demon hisses at them from behind the locked door; Armitage would have carried on into the courtyard but Millie dashes away into the chapel, answering the demon’s siren call with her own excited chatter. He rushes after her, cradling his bowl of couscous salad to his chest.

Millie flops down on top of the trap door, purring and chirping to the creature locked safely away behind the solid oaken door.

“Millie, get away from there,” Armitage admonishes as he steps up behind her. “That thing isn’t your friend, it's as likely to eat you as not.”

A delighted peel of laughter comes from behind the door. 

“Stop that.” Armitage hisses.

The demon coos and whines, wheedling and scratching, it begs to be let out again. 

“Armitage,” The deeply mellifluous and hypnotic voice whispers. “Let me out.”

“Quit it,” Armitage barks, stomping on the door to emphasize his words. “It’s not going to work on me again.”

The demon’s laugh rumbles up from the depths again. “We shall see.”

Armitage stomps on the door once more for good measure then turns away, whistling to Millie over his shoulder. She leaves the demon behind the door reluctantly, chattering to it once more before trots to Armitage's side, the bell on her collar jingling brightly.

Out in the courtyard, they settle down on one of the benches in the meagre shade and Armitage leans back against the smooth stones, letting out a long, weary exhale. He feels about one hundred years old suddenly.

_ Pirrup? _

He looks down at Millie with a smile. He plucks a piece of cucumber out of his bowl and hands it down to her; she takes the vegetable morsel from his fingers delicately but devours it noisily, smacking her lips when finished.

“You should stay away from that thing, Mill,” He says to her, scooping up a small bit of couscous onto his napkin and placing it in front of her. “He’s not your friend.”

Millie gazes up at Armitage with her knowing, green eyes and purrs.

\----

Another Monday arrives midway through June, and with the castle and library closed to the public, Armitage is free to roam about the castle or do whatever he pleases. He’d been thinking about a day trip into Prague, just to get away from the castle for a few hours but he didn’t want to leave Millie on her own all day.

Armitage decides to go for a run first thing in the morning, the sun had just breached the tops of the trees and the day promises to be warm and pleasant - the exercise would help clear his head too. 

After he pulls on his running tights and faded black t-shirt that he’d received as part of a conference gift bag years ago, he laces up his shoes. He gives Millie a quick kiss on the top of her head and leaves her curled up in the warm nest of blankets as he heads off down through the warren of rooms that lead to the courtyard.

When Armitage passes by the chapel doorway, the demon whistles to him and knocks on the trap door. Armitage hesitates for a second, positive that nothing good can come of continued contact with the clever demon - he’d only be encouraging the thing, Armitage thinks to himself. The whistling and tapping morph into frantic scrabbling so Armitage relents and enters the chilly chamber awash in pale blue light.

“What do you want?” He asks as he crouches down about a foot away from the trap door.

The demon whines piteously. “Armitage, let me out.”

Armitage shakes his head irritably, the demon’s breathy, sinuous voice buzzes in his ear like a fly and he doesn’t particularly care for the way the voice seems to rattle around in his head.

"You never give up, do you?” Armitage rises to his feet, preparing to leave.

“Wait!” The demon cries out, clawing at the door frantically. “Let me out - we can make a deal.”

“You don’t have anything I want.”

His response causes a snort of laughter to bubble up from behind the door which stops Armitage in his tracks - the demon’s laughter at his response is unexpected.

“Well, look who’s all brave and bold now that you’re out there and I’m locked back in here.”

“Insulting me isn’t the path to getting what you want.” Armitage turns to leave as the demon whines in frustration again, Armitage grins to himself.

“Alright, alright,” The voice is gruff and resigned now, the demon having given up the charming facade. “Look, I just want out - it’s been centuries, I won’t cause any trouble.”

“Forget it,” Armitage returns to crouch down by the trap door. He taps on the wood confidently. “The previous owners had the priests lock-up this pit for a reason.” He smiles as the demon hisses at the mention of the clergy. “I’m sure that reason was you.”

“Oh! Those cursed priests! They locked me in here due to their own ignorance, I wasn’t causing them harm!”

A rolling thunderclap rumbles up from the depths of the pit caused by the demon beating its massive wings against the walls of its prison.

“Why don’t you just break down the door?” Armitage asks curiously. “You looked pretty strong to me.”

“The wood is soaked in holy water,” The demon spits. “Every touch burns me.”

Armitage hums with fake sympathy. “Well, that’s unfortunate.” The demon grumbles to itself as its wings and tail continue to lash against the sides of the pit. “The people that live around here told me you were often trying to drag them down to hell with you. That doesn't sound so innocent to me”

“Stuff and nonsense.” 

Armitage snorts as he stands. “Look, I’ll think about it, alright. I can’t promise anything - I don’t want to be responsible for unleashing some sort of plague upon the countryside, but I’ll think about it.”

“You will?” The demon sounds hopeful.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Armitage finally turns to leave. “Just stop being such an asshole all the time and scaring the guests.”

The demon harrumphs but the oppressive air of the chapel seems to lighten minutely as Armitage leaves, the demon apparently now having cause for hope.

\----

Armitage swings the tall iron gates firmly closed, then wraps the heavy chain around the bars a couple of times then clicks the lock into place. The chain and lock combination doesn’t really seem like enough to keep out a truly determined thief or adventurous gang of teens, although he suspects the reputation of the castle and surrounding forests is enough to deter would-be burglars.

_ Oh Armitage _ , he laughs to himself as he slips the keyring into the small zippered pouch wrapped around his wrist, _ you were so naive a month ago _. He grips the iron bars loosely in his hands as he gazes up at the formidable castle walls, thinking how much different it looks now as opposed to when he first arrived. The castle itself still looms large, but as his gaze drifts from the picnic tables with their brightly coloured umbrellas, his rental car parked off to the side, and to the admissions booth with its little row of bunting that snaps merrily in the breeze - Hrad Houska doesn’t really seem like the stuff of legends, it looks almost quaint and welcoming. He knows better now. The slightly carnival-like innocence of the castle grounds is negated by the knowledge that the castle actually is home to a living, breathing demon.

He lets his hands fall away from the gate and he turns away from the castle with a small sigh. Once he confirms that his phone is secured in the armband strapped to his bicep, he begins walking briskly down the narrow gravel lane, rolling and stretching his shoulders and back, limbering up for his run. Demon aside, the mornings in the countryside here are so pleasant. The air still has a bit of bite to it and even though there are some gauzy wisps of clouds laced across the sky, the sun will soon burn them away.

Once Armitage reaches the parking lot for the castle at the end of the narrow lane, he feels warmed up enough that he won’t pull any muscles. His long, easy strides eat up the road as he turns left from the parking lot and proceeds down the one-lane road. There are small farmsteads and timber and plaster homes to his left, a forested hillside with tall, spindly trees to his right.

His free and easy movements and the quiet of the countryside lull him into a meditative state. Logically, he knows that he shouldn’t let the demon out of its eternal prison, it seems like so obviously a bad idea and is literally how so many fairy stories seem to start. Even if they were able to come to some sort of arrangement, Armitage would have virtually no way of enforcing the penalties should the demon violate the agreed-upon terms; he realizes that he got lucky the other day, he’d caught the demon unawares and had been able to shove him back into the pit. The demon would probably not make that mistake again.

Armitage continues to mull the problem over as he comes to a fork in the road, he turns smoothly to the right, leaving behind the village of Houska that sits on the outskirts of the castle property. Trapped as the demon was, Armitage knew it couldn’t actually do anything to him should he chose to leave it in the pit beneath the chapel. At most, there would be a lot of wailing and gnashing of teeth, but ultimately the demon is a prisoner.

The road straightens out as it leaves the forested hillsides behind and Armitage lengthens his stride to glide smoothly along the road. The fields stretching out from the road are just beginning to sprout and are covered with a fuzzy green layer hinting at the abundance to come. Small pockets of trees and brush line the roadway; the gnarled trees arch up and over the road to form a leafy canopy, providing Armitage with a respite from the morning sun.

Armitage begins a mental tally of the pros and cons of releasing the demon. The cons seem to far outweigh the pros, so far his only reason to let the creature out is simple compassion - the thing had been trapped in there for centuries, he’d read the legends, maybe it wishes for a chance to atone for its past bad behaviour. Truthfully, if the mythology could be believed, the demon was responsible for nothing more than chasing after livestock and flapping around frightening people. That is, perhaps, enough to condemn the demon if this area was your home, but Armitage didn’t think it warrants an eternity in the darkness. Armitage sighs to himself as he moves aside for an oncoming car; maybe he is as soft-hearted as Brendol always accused him off, has too much of his mother in him. Armitage squares his shoulders.

If his compassion was to be his undoing, so be it.

He would let the demon out but only if he could manage to bind it to a set of rules - Armitage really didn’t want it running off and wreaking havoc around the countryside, children and pets could be injured. He wishes he’d paid more attention when his mother, Aoibheann, had tried to teach him a bit about her Wiccan beliefs, he could use a good binding or protective spell just about now.

Armitage takes another fork in the road and strides into the small hamlet of Kruh. The village is not much more than a collection of colourful houses and barns but it’s a very pretty location. The road cuts down through a rocky bluff so that the moss-covered cliff face rises almost right up out of the road. There are a few houses perched on top of the bluff while others are right on the side of the road. The hamlet is quiet too, no one is up and about this early in the morning and no other cars have passed, the only sounds that echo off the buildings are the slap of his shoes on the asphalt and his slightly panting breathing.

He stops near some recycling bins as the road curves to exit the hamlet. He’s barely winded, the distance from Houska to Kruh had only been a couple of miles. As he pulls the edge of his shirt sleeve up to wipe his face, he catches a quick flash of the large tattoo that covers his left shoulder and bicep. He’d gotten the tattoo as a way to commemorate his acceptance into the Ph.D. program - the large botanical illustration represents several of the most important and sacred trees in Irish folklore. The botanical tattoo is a nice compliment to the other tattoo on his forearm - he definitely has a theme going. Maybe he’ll save up and get something to commemorate his time at Houska.

He straightens out his shirt then brushes his hand down his forearm where his first tattoo crawls up the inside of his forearm, thinking back to the day when he’d finally saved up enough for it. He’d chosen the Ogham script as a way to mark his decision to study literature - Brendol, naturally, had wanted him to study something like engineering or maths, something that was ‘practical’. The tattoo represented Armitage's hard-won victory over his father - he’ll live his life on his own terms, study what he wants, do what he wants and Brendol just has to accept it.

Of course, his father isn’t a fan of his tattoos, they earn him a disapproving look whenever they peek out from his shirt sleeves. Armitage rubs his hand over the Ogham script again, faint freckles dot his normally pale skin - he’s spent more time out in the sun this summer than normal. As he jogs in a circle to begin the return to Houska, Armitage lets his mind wander back to his father and his family. For all his many faults, Brendol is frighteningly practical, and his sister, Róisín, has his orderly, legal mind - what would they do in his situation? And how would they get the demon to agree to a set of terms?

Almost instantly, their voices floated through his mind. _ Get it in writing _.

Of course! The solution is as simple as that. 

Armitage moves sprightly towards home as the finer details of his plan begin to coalesce in his mind. He’s eager to find out if this idea will work.

\----

As the demon threads the folded contract up through the cracks of the door, Armitage nicks it between his index and middle fingers and whisks the paper away. He unfolds it to look with satisfaction upon the smudged mark beside his neat scrawl; the demon’s mark is black and smells faintly metallic. Armitage folds the paper into his pocket.

“Okay, stand out of the way, Millie,” He motions her away from the door as he braces his sandaled feet on either side of the door.

He unlocks the door and tugs it open; the heavy doors move easily now that they’d already been pried open once. Armitage steps back as a gust of chilly air rolls out of the pit, accompanied by the sound of approaching thunder. He gathers Millie into his arms and pressed back against the wall as the demon once again climbs from the depths of the pit.

Now that he’s not in such a state of shock as he was the first time he’s laid eyes on the demon, Armitage can appreciate the beauty of the demon’s massive wings as they flutter free of the confines of the pit. The wings are enormous and black as jet; as chilling a prospect as it is, Armitage would like to see what the demon looks like in flight, how powerful those wings must be.

The demon is crouched on its haunches at the edge of the pit, wings partially unfurled, the long feathery tail sweeping across the floor with a leathery sound. The creature looks at Armitage pensively, as if it expects to be thrown back down into hell and that this has all been some elaborate joke. Armitage sets Millie down near the wall, still out of reach of the demon, and slinks forward to close the door of the hell mouth, as a sign that he himself is acting in good faith. He straightens up, eyeing the demon quietly. The chapel is so still, the air is heavy with anticipation.

The demon lunges forward, lightning-fast and deadly, latching onto Armitage's forearm to drag him closer. It releases him with a yelp of pain, however, and draws back to lick frantically at its palm. Armitage, too stunned to even react, stumbles a few steps forward before catching himself. He looks down at his forearm to see that the Ogham script of his tattoo is glowing softly like a brand. He runs his fingers down his arm but his skin is cool to the touch. He glances up at the demon.

It chatters at him, its head cocked to the side.

“So, the oldest of the gods protect you,” It says inside Armitage's head as it rubs at its burned palm. “Well, then.”

“I-” Armitage stops. He doesn’t know how to respond.

The demon shambles into the courtyard, its long tail wagging behind as it disappears out the door. Armitage looks down at Millie and shrugs; she simply _ pirrups _ in return. He kneels down so that she can easily leap up onto his knee, then up onto his shoulder. Together, they follow the demon out into the sun-baked courtyard.

The demon is again crouched by the water cistern, its wings outstretched to soak up the warmth of the sun. The leathery skin of the wings looks ever so slightly iridescent in the sunlight and Armitage wonders what they feel like - smooth and supple, or rough like sandpaper? He doesn’t dare reach out to touch uninvited, maybe in time, the demon will allow him to approach, but not just yet.

“Do you have a name?” Armitage asks as he circles around the demon to stand in the shade.

The demon whistles softly to itself, chittering quietly as it gazes down at its reflection in the water in the basin of the cistern.

“I don’t have a name.”

“Really? What do people, or other demons, call you then?”

That makes the creature laugh breathily. “Generally, people aren’t trying to call me.”

“Ah, right.” Armitage bites his lip. 

The lack of a name strikes Armitage as unusual, all demons have names, at least the ones in bible stories and pop culture. Big, impressively demonic names like Astaroth, Asmodeus, Baal, or Mammon - names that strike terror in your heart and conjure up images of witches' dark sabbats.

Armitage is more than a little intrigued by the demon. No name, no allegiances, locked away for eternity for minor crimes, it’s all suitably mysterious. On his shoulder, Millie flexes her claws indicating that she’s about to jump so he helps her down. The demon continues to quietly contemplate its reflection, its wings flexing and stretching slowly in time with its breathing.

“Well, what would you like me to call you?” Armitage tries again. “Any preferences? Abaddon maybe, or Abraxas?”

The demon cackles at his suggestions as it scuttles around the cistern and rises up to its full height to peer directly into Armitage’s face. Armitage's body tenses, ready for fight or flight, but the demon’s posture is relaxed.

“Try again.” It requests, voice raspy with disuse.

“Naberius?”

It shakes its head, the long dark curls swaying limply. “Next?”

“Pazuzu?”

The demon snorts, its dark eyes glittering with mirth as it settles back on its haunches. Armitage lets a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

“That’s all I’ve got for now, I’m not really in the business of naming demons.”

At his feet, Millie sits primly with her front paws neatly together and her tail stretched out behind her; her tail tip taps in time with the demon’s gently sweeping tail. She mews softly, drawing the demon’s attention down to her. The massive creature leans down to take an investigatory sniff, but sneezes with a loud exhale when it accidentally gets a noseful of Millie’s fur. Armitage smiles wider.

“Look, maybe you should choose your own name,” He tells the demon. “I’ll need something to call you.”

The demon nods silently. It looks surprised and suspicious at the casually gentle treatment and Armitage surmises it hasn’t been an easy eternity in that chapel pit.

As the imposing creature shuffles away to inspect the rest of the courtyard, Armitage admires the way the sun glints off its wan and spectral skin. The demon is pale, almost silvery, with darker, deeper patches of gunmetal grey dappling its skin from its elbows down to the tips of its clawed hands, from its mid-thighs to its toes, and a bit around its neck and chest. The demon also has constellations of beauty marks and freckles dotting its pallid skin, making it look all too human from certain angles.

If Armitage had been struck breathless by the massive wings, they were rivalled only by the glorious set of horns curling out of the demon’s brow. The horns are reminiscent of those of the unfortunate taxidermy sheep in the unsettling trophy room on the ground floor of the castle, except these horns were a prize beyond anything mounted on the wall. The demon’s obsidian horns curl down to knife-sharp points just at the level of its jaw and they look just as deadly.

The demon completes its circuit of the courtyard. Gazing up at the deep, uninterrupted blue of the sky, Armitage barely has time to react before the demon has gathered itself and leapt into the sky. The wings snap open with a crack that reverberates around the courtyard and in Armitage’s chest; the massive wings take it up and up, effortlessly. The feathers on the end of the long, whip-like tail now make sense - Armitage notices that the feathers, previously rather flat and soft looking, are now rigid and upright so that the tail can act as a rudder. Armitage has never seen anything as marvellous as the demon, as frightening as it is, the demon is beautiful in motion.

“Hey! You remember our deal?” He calls out to the rapidly rising creature.

The demon’s breathy laughter floats down to Armitage as it perches heavily on the faded, copper-green roof. It let its wings unfurl out to either side of it like a great bird of prey as it crouches on the peak of the roof, its arms wrapped loosely around its knees.

Armitage stays in the courtyard, watching the demon suspiciously for any signs of double-crossing but after a half an hour without the demon showing the slightest interest in moving, Armitage gives up and returns to the staff floor to make lunch and gather his laptop and materials for an afternoon spent working on his dissertation. 

When he returns to the courtyard an hour later, Millie trotting along at his side, he sees that the demon is still on the roof, gazing contentedly at the surrounding countryside, pleasure radiating from every relaxed line on its body. The long, feathery tail hangs down from the roof wagging back and forth happily as the demon stretches its wings out to better feel the warmth of the sun.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With their agreement in place, Armitage lets the demon loose to enjoy its freedom around the castle and countryside beyond but it's pretty hard to hide a massive winged creature from tourists and locals. Both Armitage and the demon have to exercise more caution, but people have already begun to notice something is amiss.

Armitage had adopted Millie from the shelter when she was just a tiny orange and black ball of fluff. She and her siblings had been found abandoned in Phoenix Park, either by some heartless owner or some misfortune that took their mother from them. As soon as the shelter staff deemed her ready, Armitage brought her home where she’d been his constant companion for the last seven years. 

Over the years, Millie has proven herself to be an excellent judge of character, spot-on at discerning the good boyfriends from the bad, clever enough to know when he’s been to visit Brendol and thus needs extra attention, and patient enough to endure the friendship of Will’s excitable terrier. She likes  Tomáš , which makes sense to Armitage because he’s an affable, kind-hearted young man, but she also seems to like the demon, which confounds Armitage - the demon could gobble her up in one bite, she’s no more than a mouthful to it, but for whatever reason, she’s allowed the demon to become part of her adopted family.

The front gate of the castle grounds groans as it opens and Millie, from her place on the steps, perks up. Her ears swivel forward as she meows softly as  Tomáš comes through the gate. Armitage glances at her over his shoulder from his task at the picnic tables, cranking open the particoloured umbrellas so that visitors can have a bit of shade if they stay to have their lunch at the castle.  Tomáš throws himself down on the bench beside Armitage, his pose casual as he rests his elbows back on the tabletop.

“So, for the past several weeks I’ve been hearing the most interesting stories from the people around here.”

Armitage freezes in the act of opening the next umbrella. His eyes dart towards the castle then he carries on setting up the table.

“Is that so?”

Tomáš laughs. “People have been seeing and hearing some very strange things. How has it been around here at night? Same as usual?”

“Ah, yes,” Armitage moves on to the final umbrella. “The same weird howls and stuff, I’m used to it now… sleep with earplugs too.”

Finishing with the umbrella, he comes over to sit beside  Tomáš . The surrounding countryside is full of soft, gentle noises - the wind rustled through the trees overhead, the air already smelling of sunshine promising another bright blue day ahead. From somewhere towards the back of the castle there comes a muffled thud.

“If I were someone or something that didn’t want to be seen,”  Tomáš starts. “I’d do well to keep away from the fields in the daytime, you never know who's out and about.”

“Absolutely,” Armitage agrees heartily and perhaps too readily. “I’d do the same.”

Tomáš claps him on the back then rises to prepare the admissions booth for the day. He stops to give Millie a gentle pet to the head, smoothing his hand down her back. She leans into his touch as she purrs, blinking up at him with her large green eyes. He straightens up and steps towards the booth, unlocking the door and immediately begins rummaging around inside, organizing his things for the day.

The castle will be open to the public shortly and Armitage has work to do as well, among his tasks in the library, it seems he has a careless demon to caution. He skips up the steps, with a nod of his head to Millie, he pushes open the wide double doors of the castle and locks them into an open position, then he and Millie head up to the library.

As he expected, the demon is lying in wait for them on the second floor, sprawled in the pool of sunshine that’s spilling in from the high arched windows. The exposure to the sun seems to have been good for the demon because it’s been looking less pallid and sickly, and more a shimmery silver colour. There’s even a hint of sun-kissed rosiness around its face and shoulders.

In fact, Armitage thinks as he skirts around the massive creature lolling around in the sun, it’s looking much less haggard these days. The demon is still big and broad but it looks healthier; its hair is no longer lank and drab, the dark curls are positively lustrous and its horns and wings are no less deadly, just gleaming with health. Armitage sighs as he sits down heavily into his desk chair.

Millie trots over to the demon, purring happily as if she’s greeting an old friend. The demon lies still and allows her to groom its hair briefly, then she returns to her customary place on the desk beside Armitage’s laptop.

“You have to be a lot more careful,” Armitage warns the demon. “People have spotted you.”

The demon lurches up to crouch on its haunches, its long tail sweeping lazily across the floor behind it. The creature shrugs its massive shoulders.

“So? They don’t even know what they’re looking at half the time.”

Its voice is rough and raspy, rare that it vocalizes like that. Usually, the demon just chatters and rumbles to itself. 

“Well, what if one of the farmers around here has a gun? What if someone takes a shot at you?”

The demon laughs, much to Armitage’s frustration, then it waves its hand flippantly, apparently unconcerned for its own safety. Armitage snaps his laptop open smartly and stabs at the keys as he enters his password, his teeth gritted. The demon, looking abashed for once, shuffles closer to the edge of the desk and tentatively reaches out for Armitage’s wrist, careful to avoid the Ogham script tattooed there.

“I will be more cautious. If that is what you wish.”

Armitage tears his eyes from the screen to focus on the massive hand delicately placed on his narrow wrist. The demon’s skin was still a smoky, gunmetal grey on its arms, despite the time spent in the sun, but now this close, Armitage sees that the skin is also tattooed. The demon has intricate, lattice-like designs all over its arms and also inscribed onto the skin around the demon’s neck and shoulders in a light dove-grey with a style that is reminiscent of Celtic paleolithic imagery.

He glances up from the demon’s hand to meet its large, dark eyes. It seems like it’s truly remorseful, the demon’s eyes are quite serious and earnest. Armitage pats the demon’s hand then pushed back from the desk.

“Just be careful, I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” 

The demon nods then retreats to its sunbeam spot, flopping down with a graceless thud that shakes everything on Armitage’s desk and rattles the glass panes of the windows. Armitage sighs again as he plucks a page still warm from the printer.

“Come on, Millie, we’ve got some files to pull.” He steps around the desk as Millie lands lightly on her feet beside him. “You-” He points to the demon, “Be good, and make sure no one sees you.”

The demon simply grumbles as it closes its eyes.

\----

The demon seemed to have taken Armitage and  Tomáš’s warnings to heart for in the following weeks it stays out of sight, crawling over the exterior of the castle like a shadow. When inside the ornate rooms of the castle, it stays close to Armitage, slouching around after him while he attends to his duties in the library and in the castle. Even with Armitage's repeated warnings, the demon is rather slow to hide from visitors, more than one group of tourists have reported seeing strange things out of the corner of their eyes as the tip of a feathery tail only just disappears around the corner. The mythology of the castle seems to grow by the day now that the demon is roaming about freely.

On Tuesday mid-morning, Armitage is busy preparing for the arrival of several researchers towards the end of the week; as he gathers several volumes of poetry from the shelf, he slips a red tag in the book’s place to act as a placeholder.

A tour bus arrived only a short time ago so the castle is full of excited voices and loud, thunderous steps on the staircases as the group eagerly explores the castle.  Tomáš ’s voice rises in pitch as he tries to corral some of the more enthusiastic tourists in the courtyard so that the small chapel isn’t overwhelmed and accidentally damaged. Clearly, this group of sightseers has heard all about the legends of Houska and are hoping to see something macabre.

Millie hitches a ride on the ancient wooden cart Armitage is pushing around the library as he gathers the books for the researchers. As Armitage places each book on the cart, she gives them an investigatory sniff, her long white whiskers twitch at the musty smell emitted by each book. Armitage consults his list then pushes the cart over to the poetry section and grabs a handful of red tags as he mounts the ladder, searching for a book on the top shelf.

The demon is restless today; with so many visitors to the castle, it's been hemmed into the library most of the morning, following Armitage and Millie around as they perform their duties. It grumbles to itself as it sits moodily on its haunches, the long tail thumping on the wooden floorboards. The creature heaves a monstrous sigh as it stretches its wings up to brush the plaster ceiling.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Armitage mumbles around the book list in his mouth. He selects a petite blue and gold volume of verse from the shelf and replaces it with the tag. “You could go skulk around in the forest if you want.”

The demon harrumphs as it crosses its arms obstinately, tail thumping harder on the floor. Voices echo up the staircase then, sounding much too close to simply be passing by on the way to the third floor.

“What’s in here?” A flat, American voice says, followed by footsteps.

Armitage descends the ladder quickly. “ _ Psst. _ ” 

He flicks his hand at the demon, indicating that it should hide itself. The great beast lumbers away, its tail and wings barely clearing the corner before two teenagers poke their head into the room.

“Oh,” says the boy, disappointed. “It’s just a library.”

Armitage rolls his eyes as he places the last book on the cart, double checks his list, then with his heel, ensures the lock on the ladder is in place. He’s caught more than one tourist clinging to the ladder as it slides along the bookshelves while they reenact scenes from films and television shows.

The mother of the two teens gently pushes them into the library and the boy glances at the rows upon rows of books with disinterest. His sister spots Millie on the cart instantly and makes a beeline for her, shyly asking if it's alright to pet her. The girl gently strokes down Millie’s back, a delighted smile breaking out when Millie obligingly arches into the touch, purring prettily.

The parents greet Armitage softly as he wheels his cart over to a different section of the shelves, quaintly respecting the old adage that one should be quiet in a library despite the fact that no one but themselves is present. Armitage continues his work as the family peruses the library, taking pictures and talking quietly together.

Millie sits up, ears alert. Her tail begins to lash around on the cart, knocking some of the tags to the floor causing Armitage to glance at her over his shoulder. A brief shiver runs up his back as he becomes aware of a low, throbbing drone, a sound he hasn’t heard since his early days in the castle.

There comes a thump, a loud crash. Then a shriek.

Armitage leaps down from the ladder, unsure what has happened - surely the demon wouldn’t be so foolish as to attack tourists right inside the castle walls. The tourist family is no longer in sight so he throws down his list and books onto the cart then lays a reassuring hand on Millie’s back, following her intent gaze towards the other end of the library.

“Millie, what-”

He’s cut off by the reappearance of the tourist family hurrying towards the exit from the eastern wing of the library. The parents look annoyed yet resigned as they hustle their kids towards the staircase; the daughter is wide-eyed but the boy is clearly excited by something, his eyes are ablaze.

“I did see it, in the window reflection.” He pouts as his father ushers him out with a hand on his shoulder.

“Stop scaring your sister.”

They rush past Armitage and Millie with a wave and a shrill thank you, their footsteps echo in the stairwell as they hurry upstairs to rejoin their tour group on the third floor. Armitage watches them go, his mouth hanging slightly open in confusion. He turns to Millie with an arched eyebrow.

“What do you suppose that was about?”

She stretches her front paws forward as she arches into a deep stretch, yawning widely. As she sits up, she looks back towards the east wing where the demon comes trotting out, smug smile upon its face. Armitage rolls his eyes towards the ceiling as the demon plants itself back in the pools of sunlight streaming in the window with a finality that suggests it will not be moved from its spot again today.

“I think we’ve had enough of the tourists for today.” Armitage says as he slaps the “Closed” sign on the library’s door and swings the door shut.

The demon rumbles in agreement.

\----

Once Armitage had the demon relatively under control, or at least, the illusion of control was in place, the rest of the summer ticked by at a steady pace. Every day brought another crop of tourists to the castle while researchers and students continued to trickle in to use the library and archival material.

With the castle closed to the public tomorrow, Armitage stays up late on Sunday night watching a movie with Millie. He’s sprawled out on his bed, Millie sitting in a loaf tucked into his side, enjoying the feeling of not having anywhere, in particular, to be in the morning. One of the windows is propped open an inch to let in the fresh night air, and to allow Armitage to keep an ear out for the demon; occasionally, Armitage could hear the distant thrumming heartbeat of the demon’s wings as it soared over the countryside at night, safe from the watchful eyes of the locals.

A faint tapping on the glass of the window draws his attention away from the laptop. He can just make out the demon’s tail brushing against the window in the silvery moonlight so he wobbles to standing on the plush mattress and pushes the window open further to lean out. Looking up and to the left, he spies the demon perched on the roof, its long tail tapping restlessly on the roof, its wings furled tight to its body.

“Everything alright?”

The demon grunts in response but side-steps closer on the roof to sit next to Armitage's window. Together, they gaze out at the surrounding forest, gilded in various shades of blue by the moonlight. Even though he’s grown used to the castle at night, Armitage is still struck anew by just how different the countryside is from the city at night - a gentle breeze rustles through the trees and there’s an occasional call of a night bird to break the silence.

“You’re leaving soon.” The demon rests its chin on its crossed forearms over its knees.

Armitage glances up at the demon, surprised by the melancholy tint to its voice. The demon’s dark eyes are focussed on a point well in the distance as its tail thumps moodily against the roof.

“Yeah,” Armitage replies. “The time went quite quickly.” He pauses, knowing what’s truly weighing on the demon’s mind but not knowing how to address it. “You never chose a name.”

“Nothing seemed right.”

“Oh.”

The demon’s tail slips off the roof and spills down over the edge. Armitage reaches out for it, catching it he strokes his fingers along the stiff, inky black feathers of its tail.

“Beautiful feathers.” Armitage murmurs to himself.

The demon’s rusty purr rumbles to life and together, they watch night move across the forest.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final days of Armitage's internship have arrived and it's time for the demon to return to its home beneath the chapel. Armitage's overwhelming guilt eats at him - he gave the demon its freedom, but it was only temporary. Maybe it would have been better if he had never gone into the chapel in the first place.

The final Monday of Armitage’s summer internship arrives with the sunrise. The dawn of the last day promises to be as beautiful and warm as all the days that had come before. Despite the abundant sunshine, Armitage feels physically ill when he rises from his bed.

He now regrets his decision to let the demon out of its prison beneath the chapel; what had seemed like a kindness at the time, now seems like a cruelty. He offered the demon glorious freedom, and now he’s snatching it away, even though they had both agreed this could be the only outcome. He couldn’t let the demon roam at large after he’d left, it wouldn’t be safe. Not just for the people living in the villages around the castle, but also for the demon itself - he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone, demon or human, getting injured or killed because of something he’d done out of compassion.

No. They had both agreed this was the only way, and now it had come to pass.

The demon had been silent and withdrawn in the days leading up to today. It had taken to lounging listlessly on the castle roof or hiding away in the surrounding forests. Armitage had heard the thunder of its wings as it soared through the night skies, heard its mournful howls as it poured out its grief to the deep blue veil of night. If only it could somehow come home with him to Dublin, there were so many ruined castles and deconsecrated churches it could haunt.

Armitage had spent the day packing up and cleaning up his rooms - he was amazed at the detritus that had accumulated in three and a half months. At last, when there was nothing left to do, he wandered down to the courtyard to wait for the demon to show itself. Even Millie seemed to feel a sense of loss.

He’s sitting in the courtyard with Millie, trying to enjoy the late summer evening when the demon finally soars into view. It spirals down into the courtyard, landing in front of Armitage with a dainty hop. It crouches down on its haunches and the two of them share a quiet moment until Armitage heaves himself to his feet.

“I guess we should get too it.”

The demon nods so Armitage strides past it towards the chapel, heart sinking as he listens to the demon’s dragging footsteps across the flagstones.

Inside the cool, dim chapel, Armitage hauls the trap doors open again, shivering against the blast of chilly air that rolls out. He turns to the demon with a sigh.

“I’m sorry, this is all my fault,” His voice wobbles over the last word. “I should have just left you alone, this is awful.”

The demon shuffles forward and crouches down so that they’re eye level. It pulls Armitage forward and briefly rests their foreheads together, mindful of the deadly points of its horns. Armitage tentatively wraps his hands around the demon’s wrists as it brings its hands up to cup his face. As the demon pulls back, it allows Armitage to card his hands through its dark, silky curls, run his palms over the gleaming onyx horns, and brush his fingertips over the silvery tattoos on its shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Armitage whispers again.

The demon pulls him into a rough embrace, wrapping its massive wings around them, cocooning them safely from the world. Armitage presses his face into the curve of the demon’s neck - it still smells faintly metallic, but now there’s the unmistakable scent of sunlight on the demon’s skin.

With tears blurring its fathomless, dark eyes, the demon pulls away and with more dignity than Armitage would have mustered, steps down into the pit and is swallowed up by the blackness.

With a shaky exhale, Armitage gently closes the trap door and swings the bolt home with finality. Then he turns and, rolling his shoulders back, leaves the chapel without a backwards glance, Millie trailing sadly in his wake.

\----

That night, much like his first few nights at the castle, Armitage curls up in bed, the sheets and quilts pulled up around his shoulders, Millie tucked into the curve of his chest. He tries in vain to ignore the periodic wails of grief and loneliness spilling from the chapel. The demon is grieving enough to break both their hearts at once.

\----

Tuesday dawns gray and overcast, fitting, Armitage thinks as he hauls his suitcases down to his car one by one. He throws his knapsack and laptop bag in last before securing Millie in her crate and carefully storing it on the floor of the passenger seat.

“I’m going to take one quick last look around.” He says to  Tomáš as he bounds up the steps past the admissions booth.

Armitage heads directly to the now-silent chapel. The demon’s sobs had subsided sometime in the night and the chapel had a mournful cast to it in the gray light.

In the chapel, Armitage goes to the trap door and only hesitates for a moment before unlocking the rusted bolt and pulling the door open, just enough for a thin beam of light to penetrate the darkness below.

“Goodbye,” He whispers to the blackness beyond. “I’ll never forget you.”

Leaving the door slightly ajar, Armitage turns and leaves the chapel for the last time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armitage and Millie are back home in Dublin and ready to begin a new term at school. Both deal with their return in different ways - Millie searches Armitage's small flat for her lost friend, while Armitage feels crushed by the guilt of leaving the demon in the chapel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end, thank you for reading!! And another thank you to Christoph and Katie for their review and advice.

Armitage sits back from his laptop, stretching his arms over his head he grunts as his muscles protest the movement. School is due to resume in a week and he has a fairly full teaching schedule for the fall term so he wants to get his short report for his internship finished up before the rush.

He’s overjoyed to be home, of course, he’d missed the cool lushness of Ireland even if it meant packing away his shorts and t-shirts in favour of his usual grey jeans and navy cardigans. Millie, too, seems pleased to be home, taking up her customary place on the windowsill in the parlour to keep watch over the neighbourhood. Occasionally though, she patrols his small flat as if she’s looking for someone - Armitage knows very well who she’s seeking but he tries not to dwell on it. The feeling of guilt is still overwhelming but he hopes the demon was able to escape the chapel for good and make a life for itself.

Just as he’s pushing his chair away from his desk, a loud knock sounds at the door. Armitage glances at his phone in case he missed a text, he’s not expecting anyone and he’s not due to meet up with Will and Róisín until later tonight. He opens the door to find a tall, broad-shouldered man filling the doorway.

The man smiles with so much warmth and intimacy that Armitage is momentarily taken aback. Oddly, the man does look faintly familiar; his hair is dark and thick, curling over his shoulders and his eyes are big and dark but shining so brightly.

“Hello,” The man smiles widely, revealing an endearing snaggletooth smile. “I just moved to the building and I was wondering if I could borrow, ah, tea?”

The man’s voice is lightly accented but sinuous and deep. Armitage cocks his head to the side.

“You need tea?”

“Yes… please.”

Armitage opens the door wider to allow the man to step through. He notices intricate tattoos coiling out of the man’s shirt sleeve and down his forearms; the lines are quite lovely, the work is delicately done and reminiscent of Celtic knotwork. The man also has a constellation of beauty marks on his face as well as freckles on his arms.

Before Armitage can turn away to the kitchen, a small thud echoes down the hall, followed by the jingle of the bell on Millie’s collar. The bell jingles rapidly as she runs down the hallway to twine herself around the man’s ankles. She mews loudly as she gazes fondly up at the man’s smiling face with her lamplike green eyes. Armitage glances from her to the man, and back.

“Have we met before?” He asks. “You seem very familiar.”

“Perhaps,” The man rumbles. “I’m Kylo Ren.”

He holds his hand out to Armitage who takes it curiously. A strange metallic scent stirs around the man but beneath that, Armitage can discern the scent of sunlight. He returns the man’s smile shyly.

“‘Kylo’? That’s a very interesting name.”

“Thank you,” Kylo says proudly, squeezing his hand once before letting go. “I chose it myself.”

Armitage closes the door to the flat, never taking his eyes off the somehow familiar man.

“Well done,” He smiles before bashfully gesturing towards Kylo’s shining curls. “Do you mind?” 

Kylo nods his ascent so Armitage gingerly slips his hands into the soft, dark hair. He gently brushes the pads of fingertips over Kylo’s head, searching for where the coronets of a pair of wickedly sharp onyx horns would have been. He swirls his thumbs over some minuscule bumps that could be the roots of the coronets, or could just as easily be scars from an old injury. 

Armitage steps further into Kylo’s space as he sweeps his hand down Kylo’s back, feeling for anything that might suggest a pair of wings. There’s nothing there of course but Kylo’s back is heavily muscled, and he’s quite broad across the shoulders, and very powerful looking. Armitage drops his hands to his sides, still unsure but Kylo quickly brings his large hands up to cup Armitage’s face then brings their foreheads together gently as he sighs softly. Armitage exhales shakily as he melts into Kylo’s embrace, smiling into his shoulder as he feels the powerful back muscle contract as if to enfold him in a massive pair of wings. He steps back with a watery sniff.

“How long are you going to be in Dublin, Kylo?”

Millie, having had enough of being ignored, mews loudly and makes to claw her way up Kylo’s leg. He scooped her up into his arms as she purrs contentedly.

“I was hoping to stay for a while,” Kylo says, burying his smiling face into Millie’s fur. “Yes, I was hoping to stay for quite a long time, if that's alright with you?”

“Good,” Armitage returns Kylo’s soft smile. “I’d like that, a lot.”


End file.
